Don't Worry
by marymin
Summary: Kido accidentally hurts herself trying to cook. Kano goes a little overboard in response. Kidokano.


"Hey, have you seen the—" Kido popped her head around the door frame, her eyes scanning the room before they fell on Kano, who was peering up at her from the couch. "Oh. It's you." She narrowed her eyes, apparently surprised and instantly suspicious to find him home and sprawled in a careless heap in the main room.

"Danchouuuu, what's that supposed to mean?" Kano whined in response, abandoning the old magazine he was flipping through in favor of something far more interesting. If he'd known she was home, he'd have been busy annoying her hours ago.

Kido's head disappeared again, not by supernatural means, just by her turning to walk back down the hallway, her long hair flicking in the empty doorway for just a moment. She seemed intent on ignoring him, and Kano didn't think that was very fair at all.

"You're so mean," he grumbled, following her to the kitchen and almost tripping in the dim light. Why did they keep the hallway so dark anyway? It didn't really 'add to their intrigue' or whatever, especially not when Kido insisted on keeping the kitchen as brightly lit as humanly possible. Probably half their electric bill went to this room and the many lamps that illuminated it. Because of that, it was hard to even look without squinting at the places where it reflected, off of the window and the sink and the red on Kido's hands—

Kano froze.

The blood— and it was definitely blood— dripped down the back of her palm and into that spotless sink, and Kido made a _tsk_ noise as she reached for the faucet, flicking it on and submerging her hand under the clear stream of water. The little streak of blood disappeared in seconds, but Kano was already there, somehow by her side without intending to move his feet. Without turning to look at him, Kido cleared her throat.

"Watch it, you're in my space," she stated, shifting her elbow to illustrate that he was standing far too close, although she didn't seem to intend to pull her hand out from under the water any time soon. And he definitely _was_ standing too close, his chest pressed against her shoulder, his eyes wide and on her injured hand.

The water was too quick for any blood droplets to form on the cut, but he could see it regardless— the thin whiteish line at the base of her first finger, edged in sudden stark pink.

It was small, less than an inch, and that was when he realized how ridiculous he looked, hanging off of her like this and staring at her hand. She was giving him weird looks, anyway.

Kano pulled himself together, shifting his posture so that his chin was tucked against her shoulder. Even though she probably couldn't see him from this position, a wide grin affixed itself to his face, and he looped both arms around her waist.

"Danchou's pretty clumsy, huh?" he teased, although it was hard to call anyone 'clumsy' when they were friends with someone like Mary.

"Shove off," she muttered, turning her hand in the water, but the words didn't have their usual force. "I just wasn't paying attention."

Glancing around, Kano found the culprit pretty easily; a kitchen knife, abandoned on a chopping board with a mound of half-cut vegetables. From the other ingredients scattered across the kitchen counter, he could guess what they were having for dinner tonight.

"How much does it hurt, on a scale of one to ten?" he asked in exaggerated concern. It was a ridiculous question, but she seemed to consider it, pulling her hand out from beneath the faucet experimentally. Immediately, red beads of blood began to form along the tiny gash, and she stuck her hand back under the water again.

"Mm… three. Maybe. It's not that bad."

She said that, but she still hadn't thrown Kano off of her yet, and he figured that was because she was too busy trying not to bleed all over the both of them. He squeezed his arms around her in a sort of hug, pushing his luck, before releasing her and going to lean against the counter instead.

"If it's that, it can't be helped. I'll have to finish making dinner." His voice thick with melodrama, he leaned back, placing a hand on his chest to make it clear how self-sacrificing this was. After all, he had plans for today— or he would have, if he knew it would make him look this good— and he was giving them up to make dinner for everyone.

She snorted at his dramatics, pulling her hand out again, and this time he had a paper towel for her, which she gratefully pressed to the cut. Kido clasped the makeshift bandage to her hand as she surveyed the kitchen and the substitute chef standing before her. "Alright. First off is the carrots."

"Nope!" Kano made a big X with his arms, surprising her so much she stopped to blink at him. "Go find a bandaid. I'm the boss of this kitchen now, at least for tonight."

On any other day she'd thrash him for that, but even though her hand barely hurt, she didn't fancy having to cook with it. "Fine. Don't set fire to anything. Remember, it has to be edible." He snapped a salute, giving an eager nod. "And Kano?"

"Yep?"

She rocked forward to kiss him on the cheek, suddenly a little sheepish. "Don't worry about it, okay? It doesn't even hurt."

"Worried? _Me?_"

She rolled her eyes at his overreaction, turning to leave as he called after her, "This is gonna be the best dinner you've ever had!"

"Uh huh. I'll believe it when I see it." And off she went in search of a bandage, her cheeks warm and a small smile on her face.


End file.
